Behind Closed Doors
by WinchesterImpala315
Summary: Plots from S10, and S11 are included. Dean Winchester is a demon, and Sam must do everything in his power to cure him. Meanwhile, Castiel teams up with Crowley to make a dangerous deal with an old adversary.


Sam Winchester hadn't slept in days. His eyes were bloodshot, and baggy, his hair was an unruly mess, and his body felt like he'd just gotten hit by a semi-truck. All of this, he could deal with. But, his brother going missing? That he couldn't deal with. And what was worse was that he knew his brother wasn't himself. Dean was a demon. Sam had every intention of finding him and curing him, but, it was proving to be a difficult plan. Dean didn't want to be found.

Sam paced back and forth in the war room, waiting for Castiel to return. He'd sent the angel on a mission to bring him a demon; one he could use to find Crowley and his brother. He looked at his cell phone, hoping for a text or call from Dean, but as usual, there was nothing but radio silence. As Sam was about to go make himself a sandwich, he heard the click of a door opening.

He looked towards the doorway to see Cas, leading a demon with a bag over her head down the stairs. Sam nodded at him and led them down another set of stairs to the dungeon. He opened the bookcase door and took the demon from Cas, leading her to the chair where he strapped her down with the demon cuffs. Cas stood beside the metal table in the dungeon, waiting.

Sam took the bag off of her head and set it down on the table, turning around to face her. She laughed. "You've got to be kidding me." She said with an amused expression.

"Here's how this is gonna go. You're gonna tell me where Crowley and my brother are, and then maybe, just maybe I'll let you live." Sam said, crossing his arms. He had no patience for snarky demons.

The demon smiled. "I don't play by your rules, Winchester." She said with a hint of malice.

Sam snorted. "We'll see." He said, and he reached behind him to the table where the demon knife was laying. He grabbed it, bringing it to the front of him and twirled it in his fingers. The demon eyed the knife wearily, then looked at Sam.

"Torture me all you want. You won't get anything from me." She said.

Sam stood up and walked over to her, crouching down so that he was at her level. "Where are they?" He asked her, gently placing the tip of knife against the exposed skin at the nape of her neck.

"Off killing 72 virgins." She said with a smirk. Sam wasn't amused. He quickly swiped the blade across her skin, and she cried out in pain.

"Let's try that again." Sam said, standing up. He slowly walked behind her and placed his hands on the chair. "Give me a location." He said in a low voice.

The demon only laughed. "You might as well just kill me, because I won't tell you." She responded placidly.

Sam didn't want to believe her. He needed her to give him something, he was going stir crazy. He walked back around to face her, and sliced her again with the knife.

She groaned in pain, but said nothing. Sam decided it was time to change it up a bit. He walked over to the table where a bowl of holy water was waiting. He dipped the knife in the holy water and walked back over to the demon. "A little trick I learned from my brother." He told the demon.

Her self-confidence waivered as he held the knife against her chest. It began to burn her skin slightly, and she winced. "Where are they?" He asked again. The demon didn't speak, she only glared at Sam with loathing. Sam slowly dragged the knife across her skin, making it as drawn out as possible.

The demon screamed out in pain as tendrils of smoke rose from the cut. But still no answer. So, Sam cut her again. She cried out, writhing in the chair where she sat.

"Where are they?" Sam shouted at her, dragging the knife along her skin and getting some satisfaction out of the sizzling he heard.

"Okay fine!" She shouted, breathing heavily. Sam stopped and looked at her expectantly. "They're staying at a motel in Devil's Lake, North Dakota." She breathed out.

Finally. He had a location, after months of searching. "But, don't expect them to stay there long. They move around." She said with a smirk, trying to regain some of her cockiness back.

Sam looked back at Cas, who nodded. He turned back to the demon. "Are you gonna let," she started but Sam answered her partial question. He stabbed her in the heart with the demon knife. She gasped, her form flashing red, and then she was dead.

Sam yanked the knife out of her chest cavity and wiped it off using his plaid shirt. He turned around and looked at Cas.

"I'll clean up the body. Pack up the car, we leave in half an hour." Sam told his friend. Cas nodded, leaving Sam to deal with the demon. Sam unchained the dead demon and lifted her over his shoulder, she was a lot heavier than she looked, but still no problem for him. He walked out of the dungeon and turned left, pushing open the door that led to the trash room. It was a room in the bunker where they could place dead bodies. The bodies would decompose naturally through a chute which would then send the decomposed body out into the ground. The Men of Letters were nothing if not thorough.

Sam dumped the body down the chute, and quickly left the room. They had no time to waste. He practically ran back to the war room where Cas was waiting. He grabbed his bag from Cas' hand silently and they both went upstairs, and outside. Cas threw his bag in the backseat, Sam following suit. It was no Impala, but it would get them from point A to point B. They both got into the car, Sam turning the keys in the ignition. They had a long drive ahead of them.

* * *

Dean Winchester hadn't been this drunk in ages. It was a funny sensation, getting drunk when you were a demon. It took a lot more for him to get drunk. If he had been human, he would've been getting his stomach pumped in a hospital right about now. He drunkenly stumbled back to the motel room he and Crowley were staying in after a wild night at a bar. He fumbled with the door knob, before finally getting it open two minutes later.

"It's about time." Crowley said, sitting on the edge of his bed with his arms crossed as Dean walked in.

Dean grumbled in response, barely making it to his bed. "Look at you," Crowley started, standing up and giving Dean a disapproving look. "You're so drunk you can't even walk." He said.

"So what?" He asked, his face down against the pillow.

"So, I don't want to sit here all night and babysit you." Crowley said angrily.

"No one's makin' you stay." Dean slurred.

"I put up with the drunkeness and the bar fights. Even your stupid little one night stands. But, enough is enough." Crowley stated sternly.

Dean mumbled into his pillow. "Yell at me later." Was all he said.

Crowley glared at him in frustration, but decided not to argue. Drunk demon Dean was almost as dangerous as sober demon Dean.

Crowley had been patient with Dean at first, after all he did promise that Dean could howl at the moon. But after months went by and they did the same thing over and over again, Crowley began to get annoyed. Of course, Crowley much prefered Dean as a demon, but still, it had it's challenges.

Crowley decided that while Dean was sobering up, he'd check on things in Hell, make sure everything was running smoothly. He disappeared from the motel room, appearing moments later in his throne room in Hell.

"Uh, welcome back sir." A demon said, stepping forward, looking anxious.

"Give me the reports." Crowley replied.

"Well um, there's been a total of fifty soul collections today, and um," the demon stuttered.

"Only fifty?" Crowley asked. The demon nodded wearily.

Crowley sighed. Efficiency these days was at an all time low. Back when he'd been King of the Crossroads he'd be able to collect fifty souls just on his own, nevermind any other demons working.

"Well erm, yes." The demon said, avoiding eye contact.

Crowley shook his head. "Go on." He said.

"The little hellhounds have begun their training, a few of them were killed by some of the adults, but for the most part they're okay. And then there's um, well," the demon started, going silent.

"What?" Crowley asked impatiently.

"It's Sam Winchester, sir. He killed one of our scouts, looking for information on where you and Dean Winchester were." The demon said slowly.

"Did this scout give up our location?" Crowley asked worriedly. If Sam knew where they were then they had to get the hell out of dodge.

The demon nodded. "Fantastic." Crowley muttered under his breath.

The demon finally summoned the courage to look at Crowley. "What do we do, sir?" He asked, waiting for an order.

"Don't let any demons anywhere in Kansas. Tell every demon to steer clear of Sam, and find a way to collect more souls." Crowley said, and then he was gone.

He reappeared in the motel room, finding Dean right where he had left him. He walked over to the unmoving Winchester brother. "Get up." He said.

"Why?" Dean whinned.

"Because we need to move, now." Crowley said.

Dean sat up on his bed, looking as if he was about to fall over. "What's going on, Crowley?" He asked.

"Your brother is on his way here." Crowley said.

Dean immediately became more alert. "How?" He asked.

"He got ahold of one of my scouts, but that doesn't really matter. The point is he's on his way over here right now, and we need to leave." Crowley said, but Dean shook his head.

"No. Let him come." He said standing up with a slight wobble.

Crowley looked at Dean, shocked. "What?" He asked.

"I said let him come. He's just gonna keep tracking us no matter where we go, so if I kill him now, he won't be a problem later on." Dean reasoned.

"And what if Castiel is with him?" Crowley asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I take him out too. I'm a Knight of Hell; I'm stronger than the both of them combined." Dean replied with confidence.

"Not when you're as drunk as you are." Crowley retorted.

Dean waved a hand to dismiss Crowley's worry. "It's at least a ten hour drive from Kansas to North Dakota. I'll be sober enough by then." He said, not at all worried.

Crowley could see Dean's point, but he didn't want to stay and deal with an angry moose and an angry angel. "I'm going." He said decisively.

"Fine by me." Dean replied. Crowley looked at Dean for a minute before disappearing. He hoped that Dean could realy take his brother and Castiel, but he wasn't betting on Dean, at least the demon part of Dean to survive. Because if Dean lost, Sam and Castiel would go about curing him.

Dean sighed as Crowley disappeared. Who needed him anyway? He sat on his bed and reached under his pillow, pulling out the First Blade. Now, all he had to do was wait.


End file.
